Just Like the Ones I Used to Know
by Foodie
Summary: Steve Rogers is facing his first Christmas since his return and is uncertain how to celebrate. Everybody he knew is now gone, and he's feeling very much alone in the world. This is a real-time story, with posts between today and Christmas Eve, showing what happens in his life each day until Christmas. Title comes from a lyric in the song White Christmas. I don't own any of this!
1. Monday December 17, 2012

(Monday December 17)

It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but Steve Rogers didn't seem to either notice or care. It would be his first Christmas since his return and he was at a loss of how to deal with it. He found the commercialism of today's world quite shocking and it left him at a loss with how to handle it all. It was beyond overwhelming. It had started before Halloween, which was disturbing to say the least. Billboards, posters, commercials on the television telling him what he needed to make him a happy person this season. He had made the mistake of watching some of the commercials out of curiosity and was dismayed to hear jingles for stores set to religious carols. He'd turned off the television and hadn't turned it on again for a week after that.

In his past, Christmas wasn't something he had been able to celebrate at great length. He and his mother had been extremely poor, but she would scrimp and save over the year to make sure he had at least one gift under the Christmas tree. And they always managed to have what he considered a feast for a Christmas dinner, though looking back on it now, he knew it was quite meager. It was usually just a roast chicken with stuffing and vegetables, but it was the best tasting meal of the year.

After she died, the orphanage he'd gone to would have a tree that they'd make homemade paper chains and ornaments for. They'd string popcorn as well, and drape it over the tree. And going to Midnight Mass had been the orphanage's main form of celebration, but for some reason, he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that this year.

For the first time in his life, he found himself at odds with God, a feeling that saddened and terrified him. Ever since he'd returned, he'd found himself questioning everything he'd been so sure of in his past. Had he made the right choice to go through with the experiment? Why had he returned? What kind of a loving God would rip somebody out of one time and throw them, completely unprepared, into another time? He had nobody to turn to anymore, and nobody understood what he was going through. He was utterly forsaken. Was there a reason for it all? In the midst of all those overwhelming questions, celebrating Christmas felt like too much to handle, and even a little false. He hated feeling this way. He'd always had such great faith before, but now…

Life had been so much simpler before. He'd known who he was and his place in the world, and what his destiny was. He was supposed to help people and help make the world a better place by fighting evil. In his heart he'd known it was God's plan for his life. He'd just had to prove it to others first. He'd joined the fight, and had done well, but had been taken out of it before the end. And sadly, when he'd returned, he'd seen that the world had learned little in his absence. Evil still abounded. From outside the world, as well as within it. He felt forgotten and irrelevant in this fast-paced world to which he'd returned.

Steve walked around his neighborhood one afternoon, a week before Christmas, and looked at all the sights. People were laughing and smiling and full of good cheer. It just reminded him of how alone he was, and how empty of good cheer he felt. He wished he felt like laughing too, instead of frowning and glaring at the happy people. Others were wrapped up in warm clothing and some were carrying bags of presents to their homes. Would he ever have somebody to get a present for? Did it even matter? There were couples walking hand-in-hand. He wanted hold hands with someone too. He resisted the urge to walk between the couples and break them apart. Since when had he become such a mean-spirited person? This wasn't like him at all.

It was a freezing cold afternoon, and he had left his gloves and scarf in his apartment. His metabolism helped keep him warmer than the average person, but it was too cold, even for him. He rubbed his hands together to warm them, and turned to walk back home again.

After arriving at his apartment building, he checked his mail and was surprised to see a package waiting for him. There was no return address on it. He rarely received mail, and hadn't sent away for anything, so he carried it up to his apartment, curious about what was inside. As he opened the brown outer paper, he saw the SHIELD insignia on the box and knew who had sent it. Fury. The man kept his distance most of the time, thankfully, but once in a while he would contact Steve to check in or give him a small assignment in the area. His latest assignment had actually been voluntary, helping out with cleaning up after the big storm in November. There had been no way he would have sat back and done nothing while the people of his city and the surrounding areas suffered, when he could have helped. He had volunteered his time and strength to that effort without asking Fury's permission. He was a free man, after all, right? What did Fury want now?

Inside the box were two DVDs, and a note. One DVD had some animated characters on the cover. He thought he'd seen them in the newspaper before. A Charlie Brown Christmas. And the other one was older, black and white. It's a Wonderful Life, starring Jimmy Stewart. A memory flashed in Steve's mind of being a young man, sitting in a movie theatre, and watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. He had loved that movie. He hadn't heard of It's a Wonderful Life, but if it had Jimmy Stewart in it, it was quite likely that it was good. After a minute of reminiscing, he set the movies down and picked up the note to read it.

Steve,

I thought I'd send this to you as Christmas is so close. It's a to-do list. Your assignment is to get it done by Christmas. No excuses, the list is short and easy to complete.

To be done in no particular order:

1.)Write Christmas cards to at least three people.

2.) Watch the DVDs.

3.) Buy a Christmas tree. And ornaments for it.

4.) Use your credit card—A good idea would be to buy Christmas presents for your friends. Except for me, because I'm Jewish.

5.) Use your cell phone. You have the instruction manual. Stop being so stubborn and use it already!

It's time for you to start adjusting to your new life. I know you've been working on reading history books and catching up on what you missed, but it's time to start living in today's world too. These steps will go a long way in helping you do that.

-NF

Steve took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. How could Fury presume to control his life? It was an outrage! As he stood in his kitchen, looking at the DVDs on his table, he contemplated disregarding Fury's assignment. He didn't have to, after all, he didn't work for Fury or SHIELD, really. He could just throw everything in the trash and forget he'd seen it, but part of him felt compelled to comply. After a brief, but strong internal battle with his warring halves, the compliant soldier half won out over his rebellious side. With a sigh, he picked up the note and read it again. There was one week until Christmas. It was time to get started.


	2. Tuesday December 18, 2012

(Tuesday December 18)

The next morning, Steve woke up with the urge to go for another walk, but started the day off with a hearty, well-balanced breakfast first. Once he'd finished eating, he bundled up and set off on his journey. It was still dark outside and the air was crisp. It hurt to breathe too deeply, so he walked slowly. This was his favorite time of day, when it was still relatively quiet and there were few people around. Most people hadn't even gotten up for the day yet.

He liked to avoid crowds whenever possible. He had never been one for crowds or attention, but ever since Chitauri attack, his notoriety had increased far too much for his tastes. Sometimes people stopped him on the street to talk to him about his return, as his life story had somehow become public knowledge. Occasionally he was asked to take pictures with people or sign autographs. It was very unnerving. And the women… He couldn't count the amount of times a woman had boldly propositioned him. He just couldn't get used to the idea of a woman wanting to be with him just because he was famous. What sort of a basis for a lasting relationship was that? And men who would have thought nothing of beating him up when he'd been scrawny and sickly were now shaking his hand and offering to buy him drinks. All of it made him want to avoid large groups of people, whenever possible, so he usually went out only when necessary or when it was likely to be less crowded.

Steve had no destination as he walked, but took the time to look at his surroundings and continue to get reacquainted with his hometown. New York at Christmas really was a marvel. Twinkling lights, giant trees decorated with ornaments, ice-skating rinks, and decorations as far as the eye could see. The decorations he'd enjoyed as a child were more subtle than what seemed to be popular now. The lights were all so bright, and far more shades than just the primary colors he'd grown up with, but he did enjoy them all.

As he wandered the streets, he stumbled across a church. He stopped and looked at the stained glass windows. Lights from inside shone through, depicting the familiar Bible stories of Noah's Ark, Jonah and the whale, and the Sermon on the Mount. For a brief moment, he felt comforted. He could hear the beautiful sound of nuns singing the morning lauds inside and decided to go in and watch them. There weren't bound to be many others there at this time of the day.

Steve walked into the church and made his way to the pews. He knelt down at the pew closest to the exit, crossed himself, then sat to listen. The balcony above him jutted out over several of the back rows, so he felt pretty certain that nobody could see him. As he listened to the prayers and singing, he felt himself begin to relax. It had been a very long time since he had felt perfectly at ease, so it was very much a welcomed sensation.

After about fifteen minutes, one of the nuns noticed him and broke away from the group of singers to approach him. He watched her, walking slowly, as she was quite elderly. "The music is very comforting, isn't it, my son?" she asked quietly before sitting down next to him. She smiled gently and turned her attention to the singers.

Steve nodded his head in agreement. "It is, Sister," he replied. "It's been quite some time since I've had a chance to hear it. I've been…away."

The elderly nun looked at him again. "Well then, welcome back," she said, smiling again. She studied his face carefully for a moment. "You're Steve Rogers, aren't you? If so, you have been away for some time."

Steve looked at her with a startled expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Sister, do I know you?" he asked cautiously.

The nun shrugged her shoulders. "In a way," she replied. "You were a few years older than I was, but I grew up in the same orphanage as you."

Steve's jaw dropped open in shock. This was the first time he'd met somebody from his own time, and somebody who knew him, or at least knew of him, from then. It was so unexpected, but he had the feeling of meeting somebody who turned out to be a relative. A connection to another person he hadn't known existed before.

"How do you know who I am?" he finally asked.

The nun laughed quietly. "My son, we read newspapers and watch the news, just like everybody else," she replied. "I remember seeing your face on the news after the attack on the city over the summer. And I remembered who you were and how the nation mourned when your plane disappeared. It seems quite a miracle that you've returned."

"Miracle…" Steve murmured with a sigh before shaking his head and looking at the woman. "What is your name?"

"Sister Mary Helen," she replied. "My last name is Bishop, believe it or not. I think this vocation was fated from my birth!"

Steve's joy was dampened at that word. "Fate…I'm not so sure I believe in fate, Sister," he replied. "I think I did before, but now…"

Sister Mary Helen looked at Steve, her expression reflecting his serious tone. "You have a troubled heart, my son," she said quietly. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Steve sighed and watched the singers for a minute. Should he open up to her? He knew whatever he said would remain between them, but still, it would mean admitting his doubts out loud for the first time. It would make them real. Finally though, he took a deep breath. "I've just been trying to figure it all out since I came back, Sister," he said, his throat feeling dry. "I just…don't know where I fit in the world anymore. It feels like it's all a mistake and I don't know what the point of it all is anymore." He took another deep breath. It felt good to get the words out, he realized. They didn't feel as terrifying anymore.

Sister Mary Helen looked at him knowingly. "Can I tell you something I've learned from my time here on this earth?" When Steve nodded his head, she continued. "Everybody doubts. Everybody has at least one time where they question themselves, God, their place in the world, and what God's role for them is. And if they tell you otherwise, they're either lying, or deluding themselves."

"But aren't we supposed to have faith?"

"Having doubts doesn't mean you don't have faith. It just means your faith is changing. We all change throughout our lives and it only makes sense that our faith will change with us." The Sister smiled at him and patted his arm reassuringly. "I know it's not fun to go through, but I have always found that my faith grows stronger after I falter and find new footing. As with all things, this too shall pass, my son. And if you ever feel alone in your questions and doubts, never forget that Our Lord Himself had doubts that night in the garden. If He had doubts, how do we expect to fair any better?"

Steve furrowed his brow and though about this. It made sense, but it was still scary to have doubts. "How…how can a loving God allow what happened to me?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Why am I still here? In this time when nothing makes any sense and people are so strange? I'm just…so angry! All the time and I don't know what to do about it anymore."

Sister Mary Helen sat silently for a moment. "This might sound blasphemous, but I have come to see it as true as well, in all my years. God doesn't _allow_ things to happen. God set up the world and started it off on its course, but it works on its own now. I believe God gave us the ability to make choices in our lives as well as the ability to learn from the things that happen to us. That, I think, is one of His greatest gifts to us all."

Steve had never thought about it like that before. On one hand, to think that God wasn't creating a well-ordered world was a daunting thought. But on the other hand, he realized that the world had never really been well-ordered. Not back during the war, and not now. Maybe there was something to that idea of learning lessons from the things that happened in your life. Sometimes stuff just happens. When he said this to her, he nodded in agreement.

"That's a wonderful way of putting it," she replied.

"You know, this has been the most unusual spiritual guidance I've ever gotten before," Steve commented.

"It might not seem like traditional guidance, and I suppose it isn't, but you feel better now, right?"

Steve looked at the group of singers again for a moment. His doubts were still there, but he no longer felt trapped, scared, or angry at them. "Yes," he finally replied.

"Then that's all the matters." She stood up slowly and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'll leave you to your thoughts now, but you are welcome to come to me again any time you feel like. Bless you, my son."

Steve stayed until the sun came up and the nuns finished their lauds. He watched them leave the room, and remained where he was, contemplating his life, and his role in the world.

(SCENE)

Some time later that morning, Steve left the church and walked around the city again. At one point, he passed by a small shop with dancing gingerbread figures in the window. He went inside and looked around. Every shelf and available surface was covered with Christmas ornaments and knickknacks. He thought of his list from Fury and the fact that he was supposed to buy Christmas cards and ornaments for a tree. Also, he was supposed to use his credit card for the first time. Perhaps this was a good opportunity to do all of that.

He picked up a shopping basket and started studying all the choices. The variety was overwhelming, especially since he was used to having a rather spare tree with mostly homemade ornaments on it each year. Finally, he picked out a set of red, white, and blue baubles, a string of multi-colored lights, several gold star ornaments, and a box of plastic silver tinsel. He also chose a tree stand and what the clerk called a "tree skirt" and insisted that he needed. He picked out bows, ribbons, and festive wrapping paper as well. The last thing he chose was a set of Christmas cards to write to people. He found a package with scenes depicting his childhood. He hated the fact that the time he came from was now what people were nostalgic for, but it did provide him the opportunity to see things he was more familiar with. It made him feel connected again.

His heart pounded as he walked to the counter to make his purchases. He had to use his credit card. It would mean figuring out how to pay a bill later on and how to use the card and spending a lot of money at one time. It was so overwhelming to think about. But he handed over his card and watched as the clerk slid it through the reader. The clerk handed him the receipt to sign, and it was relatively painless and over in less than a minute. Before he realized it, he was walking out of the shop with two bags of his very own decorations.

When he got home, he set all the items on his kitchen table, next to the DVDs and the note from Fury. He found a pen and crossed off the two items from the list he'd just fulfilled. He felt quite accomplished and decided to work on the other items over the rest of the week. He was feeling bold enough with his credit card now that he decided to go grocery shopping that afternoon. Without needing to use cash, he could buy a lot more at one time instead of saving up until he had enough money to buy something. It would revolutionize the way he could spend his time from now on.


	3. Wednesday December 19, 2012

(Wednesday December 19)

The next day, Steve set out on a journey to find the perfect Christmas tree. He found several Christmas tree lots, but there weren't many trees left at any of them. The ones that were left were small and some were turning brown, but finally, at the sixth tree lot, he found the perfect tree. It was as tall as he was, a balsam fir, just like he remembered from his childhood. It was a bit sparse, but it was green, and it was his. He carried it easily all the way back to his apartment over his shoulder, an easy ten mile walk. He was amused by all the shocked looks on people's faces when he walked by them. Apparently people didn't often walk ten miles with a Christmas tree on one shoulder.

When he'd gotten about half way back with the tree, a young boy out walking with his mother noticed him and pointed. "Mom, it's Captain America!" he shouted as he tugged on her arm and began pulling her over towards him. "I wanna meet him!"

Steve sighed and set the tree down next to him, propping it up against the edge of a mailbox. He wiped his hands off as best as he could and tried to make himself look presentable before the boy and his mother arrived. He didn't mind children approaching him as much as the adults. "Hello, young man, what's your name?" he asked with a smile.

The boy, who looked to be no older than five, suddenly turned shy and clung to his mother's leg. "Don't you want to answer him?" his mother asked, reaching down to brush her fingers through her son's hair. When the boy popped a thumb in his mouth in response, the mom smiled and looked at Steve. "His name is Billy," she said. "He's been talking about you for months now. He even dressed up like you for Halloween this year."

Steve knelt down to try to be less intimidating to the boy. "Hello Billy, it's wonderful to meet you," he said, holding out his hand to shake Billy's. Billy slowly extended a small hand out and shook Steve's. "I bet you'll be going to school next year, won't you?" When the boy nodded, Steve continued. "Well, make sure to work very hard, and be a good friend to your classmates, and get lots of exercise and eat healthy food and maybe one day the Avengers will be able to call on you for help. Would you like that?" Billy grinned and nodded his head.

Steve stood up and picked up his Christmas tree again. "Well, I'd best be getting on home now," he said with a smile. "You have a wonderful Christmas, Billy."

As he began to walk away, he heard Billy call out to him, "Merry Christmas, Captain America!" It warmed his heart and made the rest of his walk home feel much more enjoyable.

Once he returned home, it took nearly an hour to figure out how to set up the tree stand and find just the right place to put it. He decided that right in front of his living room window was best, that way he would be able to see it from almost anywhere.

He was in the kitchen making lunch when he heard a huge crash from the living room. He ran into the room and saw that the tree had fallen over onto the floor. It took twenty minutes to get the metal screws of the tree holder in tightly enough to keep the tree upright. Several branches had broken and he was forced to turn that to the back to hide them as best as possible. His hands were covered in sap and he had needles stuck in his hair when was finished. It required a shower before he could return to the kitchen to finish preparing his meal.

Once lunch was over, he filled the tree holder with water, and got to work decorating the tree. The occasion demanded music, and he managed to find a station on his television that played all music, and this time of year it was only Christmas music. Most of the music was entirely new to him, though some songs were familiar. Bing Crosby crooning about dreaming of a White Christmas brought him back to the past so abruptly that he had to sit down until the song was over. He'd seen Holiday Inn when it had come out back in '42, and that song had stayed in his mind on long, hard nights during the war when home was so far away. It was always strange to him how an old song could do that to him.

Once he recovered, he started to decorate with the lights. After plugging them in and seeing the warm, cheery glow of the many colors, he smiled. The baubles went on after the lights, and then the gold stars. It was truly a work of art, in his opinion.

He gazed at his tree for a minute before realizing he'd forgotten to buy a star for the top. He quickly decided not to go buy one, but to make one instead. He cut up the box Nick Fury had sent his list and movies in, and made a large Star of David out of it. In his kitchen was a new box of aluminum foil, so he retrieved it and wrapped the star in it. He placed it on the top, stood back to look again and realized that it was tilted. It took at least five minutes to get it right, and by the time he was convinced that it was straight, he wished he had somebody there to help him. He and his mother had always decorated their tree together, and after she had died, he and the other orphans had. Now he was all alone. To get his mind off his sudden, profound sense of loneliness, he went back into the kitchen and made popcorn on the stove before getting to work making a strand of popcorn to finish off the tree.

Later that night, Steve turned off the lights in the living room and sat in the darkness, enjoying the light emanating from his Christmas tree. He looked at the popcorn chain and felt connected to his mother once again.


	4. Thursday December 20, 2012

(Thursday December 20)

The next day, Steve took out his box of Christmas cards and sat at the writing desk next to the Christmas tree. It was a difficult decision to choose who to write to, because he didn't know many people now. He thought about writing to some of his fellow Avengers, but none of them had sent him a card, and it would feel strange to him writing to people he didn't actually know very well. In the end, he thought the three people he had chosen were the perfect people to write to. He even came up with a fourth one as well, and felt proud of himself to have so many people to write to.

Dear Howard,

It's 2012, and I've just woken up. I wish you were here too so I'd have somebody to talk to. It's too bad you aren't. I'm sure your son would rather you were too. He's brilliant like you, you know. But he hides behind his sarcasm. He uses it like a shield. You would have been so proud of him, though, when we fought together earlier this year. He was a good leader. He was as brave as any of the men I fought in the war with. I wish you could have seen him, and I suspect he does too, though he'd never admit it.

This isn't much of a Christmas letter, I suppose, but it's what I've wished I could say to you for a long time now. I miss you. I miss then. I wish I was happier now, but perhaps I'm surrounded by too many ghosts of Christmas past. Maybe by this time next year I'll be happier. I'll write you again then and let you know.

-Steve

Dear Peggy,

By now you have probably heard that I am back. I saw your file, you're retired and living, hopefully happily, in England now. I debated whether or not to contact you, but I wasn't ready for it and I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I still haven't heard from you, so perhaps you don't. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. That sounds pathetic, I know. I have a thousand things I want to say to you, but I just don't know how to.

I wish we could have had our dance and I wish we could have seen what would have happened after the dance, but it didn't. I hope you had a wonderful life and found the perfect man and had lots of children and grandchildren. I hope you were happy. I hope you're happy still. I bet you're just as beautiful as you ever were.

One day, maybe, we will meet again, and then we can have our dance. I would like that a lot. But until then, I'll just say, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you and yours.

-Steve

Dear Ma,

I have this list, and I'm supposed to write Christmas cards to people. I don't know a whole lot of people anymore, and I thought I'd write to you. I made a popcorn chain yesterday for my Christmas tree just like we used to. I wish you'd been here to help me straighten the star on top, though. I love you and I miss you so so much, Ma…

So much has happened since you died, Ma. I wish you were here so I could talk to you about it. You always had a way of making me feel better about things. I could write them here instead. There was another world war, Ma, and I joined up when the country entered it, though it took a long time for them to accept me. You taught me to stand up for others, and that's what I did. I volunteered for an experiment, and you wouldn't believe what it did to me. I'm real big and strong now, Ma. I can help more people than I could before. But then…there was this accident, and…

Steve sat at the desk, looking at the letter to his mother and wondered how to continue. How do you explain something you didn't really understand yourself? Even writing to his mother just made the pain of missing her far worse, instead of better. He threw his pen down on the table and stood up quickly, his chair legs squealing loudly, breaking the silence. He had to get out of the apartment. Now. He walked to the door, put on his gloves, scarf, and coat, and opened the door to leave, but was startled to see someone standing outside the door, hand raised to knock. "Miss Romanoff, what brings you here today?" he asked, shocked to see one of his Avenger teammates at his apartment. Nobody else had ever paid him a visit before.

"Director Fury asked me to stop by and see how you're doing lately. This will be your first holiday season since your return, and it can be a rather…emotional time," Natasha said in her usual proper, formal manner.

Steve thought she always seemed uncomfortable, for some reason. She always seemed to keep to herself, and was so quiet and proper, usually. She was an amazing fighter, though, and he had great respect for her. He thought about inviting her inside, but he suddenly felt self-conscious that she would find his Christmas tree pathetic. Also, it wouldn't be proper for an unmarried man to entertain an unmarried woman alone in his apartment. That much he did feel confident about. He shut and locked his door. "I was going to get some coffee, would you like to join me?" he asked, starting to walk towards the stairs.

Natasha caught up with him and walked down the stairs with him in silence. Steve was still upset from writing the letter to his mother, and Natasha was always quiet. She seemed content when he glanced at her while he walked, but he tried to breathe deeply and subdue the turmoil inside himself. At times he felt close to tears.

There was a coffee shop down the street, and by the time they arrived, he had managed to calm down somewhat and put on a cheerful face. "Have you been doing anything for the holidays?" she finally asked after they placed their drink orders and had found a couple of empty chairs near a roaring fireplace.

"I got a tree yesterday, and decorated it," he said quietly. "And I was attempting, and failing, to write some Christmas cards before you arrived."

Natasha nodded her head slowly. "Those are wonderful things to do," she replied. "I don't usually do much, myself. I'm usually out of the country on assignment, but I'll be here this year."

"What about Agent Barton? Will he be able to spend Christmas with you?"

Natasha shook her head. "He's on assignment in Tanzania until after the New Year," she explained. "I'll be here alone, but I'm used to it, so I don't mind."

A server arrived with their order just then, and they sat in silence, sipping their drinks and watching the fire in the fireplace. Steve looked over at her for a moment. She seemed so confident of herself and her place in the world. He envied her for that. In many ways, she reminded him of Peggy. He thought it as a shame that she would be spending the day alone, the same as him.

"I haven't really thought about Christmas dinner yet, but would you like to join me?" he found himself asking. "It seems like we are both going to be alone this year."

Natasha smiled and glanced at him. "Can you cook?" she asked lightly. "I'm terrible in the kitchen…unless it involves using cooking utensils to disarm someone. You'd be surprised what you can do with a whisk."

Steve stared at her for a moment with a look of horror on his face. He was just learning how to make breakfast, and didn't feel confident enough to try a Christmas dinner yet. "Maybe we could eat out…" he suggested. "It's probably safer for both of us."

Natasha nodded her head in agreement. "And I know just what to get you for a present," she added. "I saw it in a store window earlier today."

"Presents!" Steve exclaimed. "I'm supposed to buy presents and I have no idea what to get. What do you think Stark would want? He already has everything."

"How about a book on manners?" Natasha suggested. "It's probably the one thing he doesn't have…"

Steve laughed and enjoyed how good that felt. "You're probably right," he agreed. "I don't know where Dr. Banner is, or I would send him something. And there's probably no way to get anything to Thor in time either. And Barton's out of the country too. What would you like, Miss Romanoff?"

"Please, call me Natasha," she invited before furrowing her brow and turning to look at the fire. She sipped her coffee for a minute, clearly lost in thought. "Nobody's ever gotten me a Christmas present before," she finally admitted. "I have no idea what I want."

"Surely you must want something," Steve said. "Maybe some perfume or jewelry or something like that."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "That's not really my style," she said. "I have everything that I need…"

"But what do you _want_? Something silly or frivolous or sentimental?"

Natasha made a sound that conveyed both exasperation and overwhelm at having to make such a decision. Steve glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Had he actually managed to fluster her? "Don't worry, I'll figure something out," he said lightly, trying to make her feel more comfortable again.

She smiled shyly at him. "I'm sure I'll love it, whatever it is," she replied.

When they finished their drinks, Natasha left. Steve spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the shops, looking for the right gifts for her and Tony Stark.


	5. Friday December 21, 2012

(Friday December 21)

The next day, Steve woke up feeling a lot better than he had before Natasha's visit. He hadn't had any luck with presents, but was determined to try again. He also had one last Christmas card to write. One he could actually send. He chose a card with a drawing of a church on it. There was a large star shining above it. He began to write:

Dear Sister Mary Helen,

Christmas is almost here, and I thought you might like to know, that I am slowly getting into the spirit of things. I have come to see that I do have some friends in these new times, for which I am truly grateful.

I am still uncertain how I feel about God and all those other important things. I would like to talk with you some more about it, if you would let me. I think maybe it's time for me to head back to church, and so I will probably see you more often there, at Mass and confession, etc.

I am glad to be writing this to you, and even gladder to have met you. I am slowly beginning to feel better about my life and the holidays. I reconnected with a friend yesterday, and it has helped me to feel less lonely and isolated. And talking to you really did help a lot too.

I wish you the merriest of Christmases, Sister, and perhaps I will see you at Midnight Mass.

-Steve Rogers

Steve didn't have any stamps, so he prepared the envelope and went to the post office to mail it before continuing his hunt for the perfect gifts for his friends. At a kitchen supply store, he found what he thought might be fun: a fondue set. Howard Stark had seemed rather passionate about the dish, but they'd never been able to enjoy it together. Steve still had never tried it. Perhaps sharing it with Howard's son would be a good way to connect with Tony. He wasn't sure if Tony had one or not, but assumed he didn't, and picked out a stainless steel set.

Now he had to get something very special for Natasha. Not only was she a pretty girl and he'd never gotten a gift for a pretty girl before, but it would be the very first Christmas present she had ever had. It had to be memorable. It was a lot of pressure. He thought about what he knew of her. She'd been raised in Russia, and had a rather violent past that she wasn't very proud of. She was a practical person, and he assumed she wouldn't be very interested in feminine things. She traveled a lot, and he guessed that because of this, she didn't have many possessions.

As he passed by an art store, he stopped and looked in the window. There were frames of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and in one corner of the window, he saw a small frame with four equal compartments. It was silver, and undecorated, and he decided to call on his drawing skills to create something for her. His mother had taught him that the best gifts were homemade, and he wanted to give Natasha his best. He bought all the materials he needed for the sketches he planned on making, and set off for home, content with his gift choices.

(SCENE)

That evening, Steve put in the shorter of the two DVDs Fury had given him. There were amusing cartoon characters and the story was so simple, but it resonated with him a lot. He decided that he had a lot in common with Charlie Brown, such as his disdain for the commercialism of the season. Also his taste in Christmas trees seemed to be similar as well. And when Linus gave his speech about the true meaning of Christmas, Steve tried his best to ignore the lump in his throat. The setting of that cartoon took him back to the time he was used to as a child. It was simple, and earnest, unlike the world of today, full of flashing lights and media seeping into your brain nearly every hour of the day. He could see that in such a busy world, it could be easy to forget the true meaning of Christmas. Sometimes it was good to take a step back and recall what started it all. When the cartoon ended, he set up his sketching materials and began to draw.


	6. Saturday December 22, 2012

(Saturday December 22)

The drawing took the rest of Steve's evening, plus most of the next day to complete, but he was very happy with the results. He had done a series of sketches: One of Natasha, one of Barton, one of their hands entwined, and a final sketch of the two together, walking down a street. He could tell by the way they had acted that Barton and Natasha cared very deeply for one another. They were very discreet, but he could still tell. In his drawing, they were looking at each other and smiling. They looked carefree, as though they were enjoying the moment and not worrying about what the future held. He thought that was somewhat of a luxury for them, so he allowed them to enjoy it in art-form. He'd also debated the merits of color versus black and white, and chose black and white in the end, because it was a classier look, in his opinion. The only color he'd used was for their eyes, which he had colored in their matching shade of blue. The eyes were vibrant, contrasted against the black and white, that they made them look alive. He hoped Natasha would enjoy them.

(SCENE)

Steve had decided to splurge for lunch that day and used his credit card to purchase one of the new things he truly did enjoy about the new world he lived in: pizza. He could eat a large pizza by himself in one sitting. There was a pizza parlor down the street from his apartment and he ordered a large Hawaiian pizza and ate it at the restaurant. He finished off his meal with half a cheesecake. He took the other half with him for dessert later that night.

When he returned to his apartment, the telephone was ringing in his kitchen, so he hurried to answer it. "Steve?" a voice greeted him as he put the phone to his ear. "It's Tony, how's it going?"

Steve was shocked. Why was Tony calling him now? He hadn't spoken to him since the summer. "Uh, it's going all right, I suppose," he stammered. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know how it goes," Tony replied. "Pepper's running the company and we finally finished rebuilding Stark Tower a while back. Now we're just getting ready for Christmas. I wanted to go to Bermuda but Pepper insisted we stay home for Christmas. So we'll be here."

"That's great, Tony," Steve replied, wondering what Tony wanted, other than to listen to himself talk. "Well, you have a great Christmas…"

"What are you doing? It's your first one since you returned."

Steve furrowed his brow. Why would he care? "Well, Fury sent me this list I have to complete before Christmas, so I've been working on that. Tonight I'm going to watch 'It's a Wonderful Life' since that was one of the items on the list."

"That old movie? I haven't seen that in ages, it's not really my style of Christmas movie. Black and white films are all a little slow for my tastes."

"What's your favorite Christmas movie?"

"Die Hard."

"I've never seen that one," Steve replied, glancing at his watch and wondering how much longer Tony would be. "I'll have to watch it next year."

"You'd love it, it's very patriotic…"

"Great, I'll look forward to seeing it then. Well…"

"That is so typical of Fury to send a list to you and expect you to just do it," Tony said, changing topics. "He's a bit fascist like that, if you ask me. If he'd sent me a list like that, I'd have just returned it in the mail to him."

"You can't just say 'no' to Fury," Steve replied. "He's in charge of SHIELD."

"Well, I mean, yeah you can," Tony replied. "You 'just say no,' like Nancy Reagan advised." He laughed at what Steve assumed was some sort of joke.

"Well I was assigned this list and I'll finish it," Steve replied, feeling insulted that Tony was questioning him. "I always finish what I start. You might not think it's important, but duty, and following through is something I never shirk."

"God, you're such a Boy Scout," Tony said sarcastically. "I mean, what would happen if you didn't finish your list? I doubt the sky would fall or Fury would fire you…"

Steve could feel anger welling up inside him and wanted to end the call as soon as possible. "You know what, Tony? There's somebody at the door, I need to go see who it is," he lied. He only felt mildly guilty about it, especially if it got him off the telephone. It would give him something to talk about in confession at church sometime. "I'll talk to you again sometime. You have a great Christmas, all right?" With that, he hung up the phone, sighed, and walked out of the kitchen. Maybe it was time for a trip to the boxing ring before he watched his movie that night.

(SCENE)

That night, Steve watched It's a Wonderful Life, as planned. He made himself a large bowl of popcorn to enjoy while he watched. He remembered what Tony had said about it being a black and white film. It took him right back to what he was used to watching in his youth. It was very comforting. Tony was wrong, black and white films were superior movie-making.

The movie itself hit very close to home for him. He felt George Bailey's pain. He too had dreamed of an adventurous life, had yearned for it for as long as he could remember, but it had always been unattainable. Steve realized too, that he had gotten a chance to see what the world was like without him. Though it was probably not as pronounced as George Bailey's had been to his local community, it had allowed Steve to see how the world had changed without being a part of it. There were differences too, of course. George had a loving wife and family, one that Steve wished he could have had. George had never been able to go on the grand adventures he'd dreamed of, but Steve had. Maybe, like George, Steve had lived a wonderful life too. Perhaps his return now had been a gift, and not a curse or punishment. He was back, it was a second chance at life, and maybe it was time to start feeling grateful for it.

That night, Steve fell asleep feeling thankful for the first time in a very long while.


	7. Sunday December 23, 2012

(Sunday December 23)

The sun was out the next morning, so Steve bundled up and went to a nearby café for breakfast. "I'll have the pancakes, the bacon omelet, extra mushrooms, and the Belgian waffle, with extra whipped cream, please," he ordered politely. "I'll also take a glass of milk, a glass of orange juice, and a cup of coffee."

The server scribbled furiously for a minute, trying to keep up with him. "Uh…that might take the cook a little longer to prepare, just so you know…" she said, looking shrewdly into his eyes. Steve thought it was strange that she would make eye contact with him like that, but she made no further comment before walking away to turn in his order to the cook. Perhaps she was shocked at the large amount of food he ordered, but he didn't care. It took a lot of food to get him started in the morning. His metabolism burned through calories so quickly he occasionally had to get up in the middle of the night to eat too. She returned a couple minutes later with his beverages.

As he sat in a booth by the large front window, eating, he watched people walk by. So many busy people going about their lives. He enjoyed people-watching. He would never meet them all, but he liked to wonder about them. Were they happy? Did they like their homes and their jobs? What did they dream about?

He saw her as she walked towards the café. She looked to be about his age, had raven black hair and her cheeks were bright red from the cold. He couldn't see her eyes, though, as she was wearing sunglasses, which made sense because it was so sunny out. A large golden retriever on a harness walked a couple steps ahead of her, parting the crowd of people for her.

Steve watched as they walked into the café. He was surprised to see the dog come inside too. He hadn't seen many animals allowed inside public places, so he wasn't sure why this one was allowed. It sat politely at her feet, under the table as she gave the server her order.

Steve thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen since his return. His mouth felt dry and he quickly reached for his glass of water, took a large sip, and promptly spilled half the glass down his front. He yelped and grabbed a handful of napkins to dry off, blushing furiously with humiliation that he'd done that in front of her. He might have superhuman strength, but he was still the same Steve he'd always been. He had a lot to learn about confidence and courting women.

"Are you all right?" he heard the beautiful girl ask, her head turning towards him.

He noticed that she still had her sunglasses on inside. "Yeah, I, uh…seem to be a bit of a klutz today, that's all," he replied as lightly as he could in spite of his rapidly beating heart. He looked at her closely and slowly began to realize that the girl was blind. It would explain the dog and the sunglasses. He relaxed a little as he knew this meant she hadn't seen his blunder.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat to speak again. "That's a nice dog you have, Miss," he said as calmly as possible.

"Thank you, his name's Diggory. You know, after Cedric Diggory from Harry Potter," the girl replied, smiling brightly.

"I'm afraid I don't know who Harry Potter is," Steve admitted.

"Where have you been the last ten years?" the girl asked incredulously. "Living under a rock?"

"Pretty much," he mused. "You wouldn't believe it even if I told you."

The woman looked confused, but smiled politely anyway. "My name is Susan," she said, "what's yours?"

"Steve Rogers," he replied. "It's nice to meet you, Susan."

"Steve Rogers…" Susan murmured, furrowing her brow. "As in Captain America Steve Rogers?"

"That would be me…"

Susan gasped and blushed. "Forget what I said about living under a rock," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Steve said with a chuckle.

Susan's meal arrived just then, so they concentrated on their food for a while. Steve kept stealing glances at her, and noted how daintily she ate her oatmeal and tea. "So I bet you have a lot to learn since you came back," she commented after a few minutes. "I heard about you on the news over the summer. You have quite the life story."

Steve found her boldness charming and liked that it made it easier to talk to her. "I've been reading history books and catching up on pop culture, and boy is there a lot of it…" he said. "It's overwhelming sometimes."

"I can sympathize," Susan replied. "I imagine it's a bit like when I had to adjust to losing my eyesight. It changes everything forever and you have to deal with it anyway. I imagine you've been going through about a million issues all at the same time, and it's not like you have anybody else to turn to, because you're the only one this has ever happened to. Man, that just…sucks…"

Steve smiled. He never thought he'd find a person who would understand what he was going through, and yet here was a person who could relate to him, though she had a completely different issue. He sighed. He wasn't comfortable yet with all the new slang he had heard over the past several months, but decided he liked what she'd just said. "Yes, it definitely…sucks," he replied. They were quiet for a minute as he tried to think of something to say. "I was given this list of things to do before Christmas, and one of them is to use my cell phone, but I hate it. It's so small I think I'll break it, and I don't understand how it works. And what is 'texting' anyway?"

Susan smiled. "I can show you how, if you want," she replied, holding out her hand. "Let me see it."

Steve reached into his coat pocket and handed the phone to her. She opened it and used her fingers to gain familiarity with it. After a minute, she handed it back to him. "This one is pretty basic, so there is no texting, but you can make calls and people can call you. That's a good starting point," she explained. "Do you have any phone numbers you want to add?"

"I don't know any yet," Steve replied. "I will have to ask my friends for theirs."

Susan nodded her head and began explaining how to do it. They spent a long time talking about how to use the phone. Steve would tell Susan what the screen said and she would explain what it meant. He made a few mistakes as they worked on it, and he tried his best not to feel frustrated, but found it difficult not to. Finally, Susan asked for the phone again. "I'm putting my number in, so you at least have one. If you ever want to call me, feel free to…" her voice trailed off as she handed it back to him.

Steve took his phone and looked down at it. She had given him her phone number! That had never happened to him before. "Thanks," he stammered nervously.

He watched as she pulled her phone out and hit the number buttons. "I'm putting your number into mine," she explained.

"You could call me sometime, if you want…" he said, his heart pounding.

"That's pretty much how it works," Susan said lightly.

With far more boldness than he really felt, Steve picked up his remaining plates and moved over to her table. They spent the next hour and a half talking.

When the server began to grow impatient, Steve and Susan started to bundle up to leave. Steve insisted on paying for her breakfast, and confidently used his credit card for it all.

"Well Steve, it was great to meet you and spend the morning with you," Susan said as they stepped outside onto the sidewalk.

"Yes, I had a wonderful time," Steve replied, smiling. "I guess I'll see you around…"

"Yeah, and have a Merry Christmas," Susan said before turning and walking away, Diggory leading her through the crowd.

Steve reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He still had to _use_ the phone for the first time. It was the last item on Fury's list. He looked at Susan's retreating figure and felt his palms begin to sweat. Come on, Rogers, pull yourself together, he thought to himself. You fought Nazis! And Loki! You can call a girl. It's just a phone and it's just saying hello. That's all!

With a deep breath, he flipped the phone open, went to his phone book, like she'd shown him, and dialed her number. After three rings, she picked up. He watched as she stopped at the end of the block and moved away out of the flow of traffic. "Hello?" she greeted him.

"Uh…so I was just wondering, what are you doing for New Year's?" he asked rapidly. "Oh, also…hello…it's Steve Rogers…"

Susan laughed and turned around to face his direction. "Hello Steve Rogers," she replied. "As for New Year's, I have the feeling that I'll be on a date. The real question is, where are you going to take me?"


	8. Monday December 24, 2012

(Monday December 24)

Steve came home late that afternoon after walking aimlessly around the city. It took him a long time to fall asleep that night as visions of Susan's pretty face danced in his head.

The next morning there was a note from Tony Stark waiting for him. He was throwing an informal pre-Christmas dinner that night and would love to have Steve join him. Some of the other SHIELD members would be there as well.

Steve wondered if Fury would be there. He could give him his report then. He could also give Tony his gift. Natasha's gift would wait until Christmas, so he could give it to her in private. He figured she would hate to open his sketches in front of others.

He used his cell phone to call Tony's apartment and got through to Pepper Potts, Tony's girlfriend. She assured him that the invitation was legitimate and there was actually a party that night. She arranged to have a car sent to his apartment to pick him up that night before they hung up.

He spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for the party that night. He debated over how to wrap Tony's present, or if he should at all. In the end, he found a brown paper bag from the grocery store, cut it open and wrapped the gift in that. He still had ribbon from the store when he'd purchased his ornaments and cards and tied some of it simply around the box and declared it ready.

The car Pepper had promised arrived a mere five minutes past the agreed upon time, and Steve was waiting in the lobby of his apartment for it. The driver assured him that was good traffic in New York City, but Steve wasn't so sure. The drive didn't take too long, and the next thing he knew, he was at the foyer of Stark Tower.

After a quick trip in the elevator up to the penthouse, he was greeted by a disembodied voice that identified itself as "Jarvis", and told him where to place his coat. Steve found it very intimidating to hear this voice, but it didn't last for too long before somebody joined them. "Cap, glad you could make it," Tony said, coming around the corner, a drink in his hand. "Did you get something to drink yet?" He glanced at the present in Steve's arms. "A present for me? You shouldn't have…" he said while ripping it out of Steve's arms covetously.

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to stroll over to the bar, leaving Tony shaking his present, no doubt trying to figure out what was inside. The bartender made Steve a martini and he was sipping it when Pepper Potts walked over to greet him. "Steve, I'm so happy you could make it," she said with a smile that lit up her face. She turned to the bartender. "I'll have one of those too, please, extra olives. Actually, I'll just take a jar of olives with it."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Potts," Steve replied, giving her a smile to match hers.

"Please, call me Pepper," she said as the bartender handed her a martini and an opened jar of green olives. She held the jar out to Steve, who happily took a couple.

"Did you get a tour yet?" When Steve shook his head, Pepper gave him a tour of the penthouse. He was duly impressed with everything, and noted how proud she was of the place.

When they finished the tour, they continued to talk for several minutes as more people poured into the room. With the exception of Natasha and Fury, he didn't know any of the other guests. When dinner was announced, he offered Pepper his arm and escorted her into the dining room.

Steve was seated in between Nick Fury and Natasha, thankfully, so he had a lively conversation while they ate. Tony spared no expenses, of course, plying them with prime rib, caviar, and lobster.

Halfway through the meal, in between courses, Steve turned to Fury. "So, sir, you'll be happy to know that I successfully completed your list," he announced with a smile.

Fury set his knife and fork down. "Captain, what are you talking about?" he asked, looking confused.

"The list you sent me, with the movies," Steve explained, wondering just how busy the Director was if he could forget something like that. "I did all the things you asked me to. And I've come to rather appreciate the credit card. I can see the advantages to having one. And I did not get you a present, as you instructed."

Fury shook his head. "What are you talking about? I didn't send you a list."

"Somebody sent me a list and it had the SHIELD insignia on the box. And it said it was from you. It said not to get you a Christmas present because you're Jewish."

"I'm not Jewish! Let me see this list." Steve took the list out of his pocket and handed it to Fury. Fury looked at it for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he read it. "I didn't write this," he finally declared. "But I _bet_ I know who did…" He turned to look at Tony, who was seated at the head of the table. "Stark, you wouldn't happen to know about a list that was sent to Rogers with the SHIELD insignia on it, would you?"

Tony set down his fork and wiped his mouth on his napkin before responding. "What sort of list?" he asked. Fury crossed his arms and frowned, glaring at Tony with his good eye. Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. "I mean, perhaps I know something about some type of list. It is Christmas after all, right? You know, 'He's making a list, checking it twice'?" he finally replied.

Fury handed Tony the list and Steve watched as he read it. "Well that's not my handwriting, so…" Tony said upon reading the paper.

Natasha glanced at the list and furrowed her brow. She quickly reached over and ripped it out of Tony's hands. "No, it isn't," she murmured. "It's Barton's…"

"What? Clint did all of that to you? What is this world coming to? That's just terrible…" Tony said, clucking his tongue disapprovingly and shaking his head slowly.

"I don't understand," Natasha said, "Why would Agent Barton do this to Steve?"

Tony shrugged and took a sip of his Scotch. "Not sure," he replied. "I mean, he did come over the last time he was in town, and we had some drinks, but that's all I can recall. Maybe he said something about wanting to play a prank on him, maybe he didn't…All I know is that I had no part in it whatsoever. You might want to think twice about your choice in boy toys, Tasha. I mean, if somebody would do something so cruel and callous to poor, innocent Steve, then what would he do to any of us? It makes me shudder to think, honestly it does…"

"It is so touching to see how deeply you care for your fellow teammates' wellbeing," Fury said, unfolding his arms and placing his hands flat on the table. "Now, when you said you two had drinks, I'm sure you had nothing to do with the planning of this little prank? You didn't encourage him or partake in any of it at all?"

"Well…When he suggested it, I _may_ have laughed or something. I _may_ have implied that it might be funny, in the hypothetical. I had no idea he'd actually do it…"

"Wait, was that the night Clint came over and the two of you stayed up all night in your lab drinking and laughing? And the next day when I came into the lab when you'd passed out there was a bunch of SHIELD letterhead lying on the tables? Some of them had the insignia cut out of them," Pepper said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Tony.

"That was…ticker tape," Tony said, quietly. "We had a parade in the lab. You missed it. Sorry…"

"Tony, just stop," Pepper said before sighing and shaking her head. "You just sound pathetic."

"All right, all right!" Tony exclaimed. "It's not that big of a deal. You're making this into _way_ more than it should be."

Steve's jaw dropped open and he felt anger welling up inside him. How could he have been so easily duped? He'd never felt so foolish in his entire life. Maybe he was too naïve to live in today's world after all. "You Stark? Why did you do that?" He shook his head sadly and crossed his arms.

Natasha frowned. "You _should_ have gotten him that book about manners," she commented quietly to Steve. "And I'll be getting one for Barton too…"

Tony was silent for a minute, looking sullen. "Do I get to keep my present?" he finally asked flippantly.

"You're lucky Steve doesn't beat you to death with whatever he got you!" Fury growled. His scowling face suddenly smiled triumphantly. "You know, Barton volunteered for the job in Africa, and now it all makes a whole lot more sense why…Looks like he got you too, Stark…"

Tony frowned and reached out to grab his drink. He took a sip and didn't speak.

Steve looked around the table and noticed how uncomfortable everybody looked. He didn't want to ruin the party, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He forced a smile. "Oh, it's all right, you guys. It doesn't really matter that much," he said with much more lightheartedness than he truly felt. "Why don't we go back to this wonderful meal? Tony and I will talk some more privately afterwards…" With that, he stabbed his fork into his prime rib and returned to his food. The party resumed its course a moment later. Steve did take the opportunity to glare angrily at Tony, though Tony seemed to be doing his best not to look in his direction.

An hour later, the final course was over. Steve was pleasantly stuffed, but still angry at Tony. When everybody got up from the table and began to mingle, he walked over to Tony and grabbed him by the arm. "Let's have a little talk, shall we?" he said while pulling Tony towards the door.

Tony pulled away from Steve's grasp and led him into his office, closing the door behind them. "Why did you do this?" Steve asked, folding his arms again and leaning against the wall.

Tony was silent for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "I just thought you needed a push to get back out in the world," he said lamely. "And you did, right? You used your phone and your credit card and you watched some great movies, right? Also, it was supposed to be kind of a joke. You know, a prank?"

Steve shook his head. "Tony, you're such a…" He didn't know what to call him. He had no words. This was Tony's idea of a prank? It was at least better than getting beaten up, which was what most people used to do to him for a prank.

"You're not really going to return the present, are you?" Tony asked, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"You're like a four year old," Steve said, laughing in spite of himself. "I got you a fondue set."

"Fondue?" Tony said, looking puzzled. "How retro…I'll have to have you over to break it in. We'll have fondue and Harvey Wallbangers…"

"Harvey who?"

"Never mind…" Tony walked over to his desk and opened a drawer. "Anyway, I was going through some stuff of my dad's a few months back and I came across a few things I thought you might want…" He took a folder out of the drawer and handed it to Steve. "I don't need it, really, but I thought maybe you'd have use for it." He folded his arms and watched as Steve slowly opened the folder.

In the folder was a photo of Howard Stark standing next to Steve. It wasn't one of the official pictures taken after the experiment, but sometime off-duty. Peggy was standing with them and all three were laughing. Steve smiled at the photo. "Your dad had just told a joke. I can't remember the punch line, but it was clearly very funny…"

Steve looked at the next item and saw the original blueprint for his shield, with HS signed in one corner. "It took a while to get it right, but he got it in the end…"

The last item was a letter from Peggy to Howard. It was dated a year after Steve's plane had crashed.

Howard,

I'm writing to you to let you know that I am engaged to be married. His name is Thomas Miller, and I am very happy with him.

Part of me feels guilty of course, but I had to get on with my life. And you need to also, Howard.

It's time to stop the search. Steve's gone and he's not coming back. We have to accept that and move on.

There's been so much loss from the war, we have to just accept that Steve was one of its casualties.

Thomas and I are to be married next June, and I would love it if you could attend. Invitations will go out in a couple months. Make sure to look for it in the post.

-Peggy

Steve slumped against the wall as he took in this new, unexpected information. They had both done the best they could after his accident. He didn't know that Howard had spent so much time trying to find him. He had truly been a wonderful friend. And Peggy had mourned him before finding somebody else. He hoped Thomas had been good to her.

After a minute, Steve put everything back into the folder, and closed it. "Thank you," he said, his voice straining as he tried to maintain his composure.

Tony held his hand out. "So, are we good?" he asked quietly. Steve looked carefully at Tony and saw that he seemed uncharacteristically serious. Maybe all of this had been his strange way of trying to reach out to him. Perhaps reaching out to others was something Tony couldn't really do unless it was behind an elaborate trick. He continued to look at Tony, and suddenly he felt sorry for him. Maybe this was a reason to forgive Tony, instead of holding onto his anger and humiliation. Finally, he nodded and shook Tony's hand. They started walking out the door. "So, are you busy for New Year's? You could come over for fondue…"

"Actually I have a date," Steve replied sheepishly.

"What? Who with? Is she hot?"

"Hot?"

"Hot, you know…pretty, sexy…hot."

"I suppose you could say that. Hot…" Steve said with a chuckle.

"Well, we'll figure out a time soon."

Nick Fury was waiting outside the office when they left the room. "I see you two are both alive and neither is bleeding. That's a good sign," he said in greeting. "I assume you've worked through this?"

"Yes, everything's fine now," Steve replied.

"Good," Fury said before turning to leave them. "I'd hate to have to replace my two star players." He stopped and looked at them one last time. "Merry Christmas, Cap, and Happy Chanukah, Tony…" With that, he turned on his heel and joined Natasha and Pepper in the far corner of the living room. Every once in a while they'd look over in Tony and Steve's direction and Steve would wonder what sort of trouble Tony and Clint would be in with their respective girlfriends over this debacle. It was sure to be far better revenge than he could ever attempt to get on them.

Some time after that, Tony mingled with the rest of his guests as Steve talked with Pepper and Natasha, once Director Fury had returned home. Steve left later that night and Tony's driver took him to the church just in time for Midnight Mass. It was a great way to end the night.

A/N: This is the final real-time chapter of this story. I will post the epilogue on Christmas day for you all to read and hopefully enjoy. I have loved sharing this story with you all and getting some really amazing feedback. This has definitely been the highlight of my Christmas this year. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!


	9. Epilogue

January 2, 2013

"How was your Christmas?" Steve asked Tony as he stirred the melting cheese in the fondue pot. "Get anything good?"

"I got a really cool fondue set," Tony said with a small smile. "A friend gave it to me…"

"Oh, did you? Well, your friend was really nice to give that to you," Steve replied. Maybe one day he'd tell him about the history of "fondue" and the real reason he had gotten the set for him. When Tony was ready to hear it.

"Did you and Pepper do anything special for New Year's?" Steve asked casually.

Tony was quiet for a moment. "Do you know the story of Lysistrata? You know, in Greek mythology or whatever?" Steve shook his head. "Oh, well…Let's just say my New Year's was uneventful…"

After another minute of eating in silence, Tony continued. "What about you? Did you get anything nice?" he asked, reaching into the pot to see if the cheese was hot enough and burning his finger on the molten cheese.

"I got a wonderful hat and scarf set from Natasha," Steve replied. He smiled to remember opening the lumpy, hand-wrapped package that she had wrapped herself. She had used nearly an entire roll of tape on it and it had taken several minutes to get open, but he had loved the star-spangled pattern on the knit set. It reminded him of something his mother would have made him when he was a child. The hat even had a tassel on the top. He'd put it on with pride and had worn it out to dinner with her. He had given her his sketches, and in her own, stoic way, she had really been moved. He knew she kept her emotions to herself, but she had stared at the drawings for so long that he had been nervous about asking her if she was all right. She had smiled and clutched the frame tightly, nodding her head.

They had enjoyed a lovely Christmas dinner together and both agreed that it was the best Christmas ever.

"So, tell me how your date went," Tony said as he stabbed a piece of bread with a long fork and moved it over to the pot of melted cheese. "Feel free to be as specific and detailed as you like."

Steve smiled and popped a piece of cheese-covered bread into his mouth. "Well, I picked her up New Year's Eve, and took her out to dinner. We went on a walk around the city after dessert and made our way to Times Square to watch the ball drop," he said slowly before taking a sip of his mimosa.

Tony grinned. "And did you give her a New Years kiss?" he asked.

Steve blushed and looked down at his fork. "Maybe a little kiss," he admitted quietly.

"And then what?"

"And then…we walked around some more…"

"Did you go to your apartment? Or to hers?"

Steve was silent for a minute, debating on how much to tell Tony. "We went back to her place, just for coffee. We ended up staying up until four in the morning talking. And then I fell asleep…on her couch…"

Tony's grin faded. "That's it? Talking and sleeping on her couch?" he asked, sounding disappointed. "Well at least you got a kiss; it's a step in the right direction…"

"I don't know Susan very well yet, and I don't believe in taking advantage of women, I believe in really getting to know a woman first before doing anything," Steve replied defensively. "I mean, it's still very early in our relationship, and I have to see where it's heading. Perhaps if things work out, we'll get engaged, and then we can do a little more…"

"Engaged? You're going to wait until you're engaged? You really are still old-fashioned…"

"Old-fashioned? There's nothing old-fashioned about good manners and being respectful, Tony. Maybe you should try it yourself sometime…"

Tony glared at him for a moment before stabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into the pot. "That's not really my kind of thing. I'll leave that to you, Captain Hall Monitor." He grinned before popping the bread into his mouth.

Steve began to laugh. "I _was_ hall monitor in school," he admitted. He shook his head and took another bite of fondue. Tony definitely had inherited some of his father's sense of humor and a lot of his confidence. In many ways they were a lot alike.

As they continued their messy meal, Steve looked out the window of the penthouse at Stark Tower. The sky was clear and blue, and a weak sun shone down on the city. It was a new year for all of them. A new beginning. Perhaps it was time to take advantage of that. Things were starting to look up, after all. Maybe there was some promise to this new world and new time of his.


End file.
